


Missing You

by EJWalters



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: SO MUCH FLUFF, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, super fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 11:00:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19375375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EJWalters/pseuds/EJWalters
Summary: You come home to find a drunk Crowley and fluff ensues.





	Missing You

You walked into Crowley’s flat and stopped when you saw a path of his clothes strewn along the floor. You didn’t see anyone else’s clothes with them, so you followed it and then heard some shuffling around. You followed the sound, then, and then there was a  _ fwump _ followed by  _ oomph _ . You rolled your eyes and turned the corner. There was Crowley lying on the couch wearing nothing but his boxers and a blanket wrapped around him like a child with a hood and everything, struggling to get up. Judging from the bottles strewn on the floor, you guessed he was drunk. Again.

“Well,” you said by way of announcing your presence, “This is just tragic.”

Crowley squinted at you, “(Y/N)?”

“Yeah.”

“How’d you get in here?”

“I have a key, Crowley.” You walked over to him and helped him sit up.

“You do? Where’d you get it?”

“From you. You gave it to me a few decades ago.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“I think it’s time for you to sober up now, love,” you patted his cheek affectionately.

His face scrunched up as he forced the alcohol from his system. Suddenly sober, he groaned and rubbed his face.

“Good morning,” you kissed his cheek and got up, going to the kitchen.

“I would kill for some coffe right now,” he said, following after you, “Literally.”

“What do you think I’m doing?” you asked, walking towards the coffee maker.

Crowley wrapped his arms around you from behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder, and hummed, “I knew I loved you for a reason.”

You chuckled, “You mean besides the fact that I kicked your ass all those years ago in Istanbul?”

“That was really sexy of you,” he agreed.

You turned your head and nuzzled your nose against his cheek, “I know. I had to get your attention somehow, darling.”

He pressed his lips to yours firmly, “Why is my wife more badass than I am?”

You turned in his arms, leaning back against the counter, “Because I can be. And because you think it’s sexy.”

“Well, you’re right about that,” he said with a small smile.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he wrapped his around your waist, “So are you going to tell me why you got so drunk, darling?”

He shrugged, “Why not? You know I enjoy a drink or two every so often.”

The coffee maker beeped and you turned to reach for a mug in the cupboard, going on your tiptoes to reach it and then filling it with coffee, stirring in one spoonful of sugar to it before giving it to Crowley. He took it, keeping an arm around you, with a “thank you, darling” and directed you out to the living room with him to sit on his lap on the couch.

“You’re awfully cuddly today, aren’t you?” you asked.

“I missed you,” he said into his coffee cup as he pulled a book out from between the couch cushions and handed it to you. 

“I was only gone for two days. In Dublin, for that matter. You could have easily come to see me if you wanted to,” you pointed out.

Crowley mumbled something unintelligible and you rolled your eyes.

“Such a drama queen,” you said affectionately with a smile, kissing his cheek.

He finished his coffee and miracled the mug into the sink before wrapping both arms around you and burying his face in the back of your neck, “Will you read to me?”

“I thought books weren’t your thing?” you countered.

“I like when you read to me,” he pouted.

You shifted in his arms so that you could press a soft kiss to his lips, “I know. What do you want me to read?”

“Whatever you want,” he kissed your nose, smiling when it scrunched up cutely.

You looked at the book in your hands, seeing it was a special edition of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, hardback, with a slick black cover and elegant green writing on the spine announcing what the book was. If it was possible for books to be sexy, this was a sexy book.

“Where did this come from?” you asked.

“I picked it up for you yesterday. Afraid I lost the dust cover, though,” Crowley explained, “But I thought you might like it.”

You kissed his nose, “I love it. Thank you, love.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

You opened the cover, relishing in the crack of the new binding as you opened to the first page of the story enclosed in the pages. You buried your nose in the pages for a moment and inhaled, loving the smell of a new book. Once satisfied, you licked your lips, took in a breath, and started to read the story. Crowley listened to you read, hanging onto your every word, perfectly content to stay like this, his arms around you, your back comfortably pressed against his chest, head tucked under his chin, having the ability to bury his nose in your hair whenever he pleased. Yes, he would be content to stay like this for the rest of his life. As long as he had you, everything would be alright, of that he was sure.


End file.
